A Day In The Life of a Noise Marine

I start my day surfing a motorcycle covered in swords and skulls and cool shit like that over a mountain of cocaine while kickass guitar solos blare in the distance. I'm on my way to my morning murderfuck space orgy. Just another Tuesday.

Once I'm done with the morning Fuckening, I like to head to the nearest planet to convert prudish imperial citizens to the ways of my androgynous godmother Slaanesh. This guy is literally jizzing himself right now.

I travel with no less than 50 demon sluts at all times. Cinnamon here is my favorite. That guy is also literally jizzing his pants.

Sometimes the eldar show up to fuck with our plans. Some might call them nefarious, but that's really just bullshit Imperial fuckboys and Eldar cunts like to say. I just scream at them like Eric Adams from Manowar until their heads explode. Then I violate the meat while it's still warm and blow lines off her cooling naked body.

Eventually, we'll murderfuck enough people for a demon prince to look up through Space Hell and go, "Whoa, sweet," and show up to join the party. This is Malodious Benefuck Hammerdong VI, Child Goat of A Thousand Burning Orgasms. We call him Jerry. The other guys say he jerked the dicks off an entire species until they came to death in order for Slaanesh to grant him demonhood.

Sometimes Lucius shows up to stab the shit out of some people. He's crazy good with swords, and I hear his flesh whip is made of giant demon dicks. I wouldn't want to get hit with it. Who knows where that shit's been?

Can't let Lucius have all the fun though, so me and my war band start stomping on some Eldar faces too. Dr. Feelgood is on repeat, and Pete over there with the flesh dreadlocks is covering Van Halen's Eruption while he cums acid on a Howling Banshee.

Once everything is dead, shit starts to get boring until we feel the tremors begin to start.

The tectonic plates of the planet begin coming apart, so we gotta run to escape the dying world's final orgasm. We literally murderfucked the whole planet.

I play a final, totally badass solo, fully prepared to die with the ringing distortion of heavy goddamn metal in my ears, and two nostrils of space coke in my skull.

But then Fulgrim shows up and says, "Whoa, good job buddy," and magics us to his planet of drugs and snatch to party more.

Here, I bone down with my 50 groupies while shooting up space drugs and practicing my scales, so that one day, I can murderfuck the entire galaxy.